


Paroxymoron

by ainselwriter



Category: Boyfriend to Death (Visual Novels)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Gore, Canonical Character Death, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, Violence, Vore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-25 23:32:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14389407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ainselwriter/pseuds/ainselwriter
Summary: Strade can't be patient to save his life.





	Paroxymoron

“REN!”

Ren jumped at the familiar voice, bolting down towards the basement immediately. It wasn’t the first time Strade had called him down there, but it usually wasn’t with a tone like _that_. He sounded aggressive, angry, and...scared?  But what could Strade possibly be scared of? The moment he made it to the bottom of those stairs, he got his answer.

The basement was a mess, and a strange man lay off to the side with two bloody, empty eye sockets. Horrifying as that was, it wasn’t the most shocking thing to Ren in the room; honestly, he’d seen worse down here when it came to Strade’s “guests”. No, what really left Ren speechless was the sight of Strade himself, on the ground and bleeding from his neck.

“Help me!” he ordered, but Ren didn’t move. Of all the unpredictable horrors in this house, the one constant was always that Strade was in control. And in the rare situation where he wasn't, the man always forced his way back into it before long. But this…this was different. This was **_terrifying_**.

“Ren, get me the bandages” he said, sounding a bit more desperate now. Ren was literally frozen with fear, unable to move a single muscle. All he could do was stare petrified at the other man, barely able to think. As they locked gazes, Strade seemed to pick up on this, and softened his tone considerably.

“Please…”

That did it. Both Strade’s voice and expression were uncharacteristically gentle and earnest, finally giving Ren the will to move his foot forward. It wasn’t until he heard Strade's soft sigh of relief that it finally hit him why this felt so odd; Strade was helpless. Strade needed _him_. That concept was so strange in and of itself, it took the smaller man a moment to wrap his head around it before stepping forward again. Apparently, a moment was too long.

“What are you waiting for, libeling?” He was still smiling, but it was strained now, just like his voice.

The words and tone were both familiar, he’d heard them only a little over a month ago. He still could see that poor girl on the floor shivering and crying, and Strade’s thumb over that red button. He’d had that same impatient smile then too.

“Ren!”

The fox jumped, suddenly snapping back to reality at the angry shout. Strade was glaring at him now, looking very impatient. The look alone made him flinch, bringing back other horrible memories of times Strade _wasn’t_ enjoying himself. Usually it was a slow and subtle transition, his smile faltered a little, like it did when Ren told him he couldn’t do something they both knew he was capable of. Any more than that, and the remote usually came out. The association between that glare and that feeling was so great at this point, Ren found himself bracing for the sensation instinctively. But…Strade didn’t have it out. He couldn’t. He could barely move. _Strade was the helpless one now._

“Ren!” he barked once more, “Get me the bandages, NOW!”

Ren didn’t move. Other horrible memories washed over him, the things he did that week, the things Strade made him do. And before that even, horrible things, _terrible_ things…he ate someone’s heart once. They weren’t alive, but still, he hadn’t wanted to do it. It felt wrong, it felt as wrong as so many other things Strade made him do.

“Ren, I’m not going to ask you again!”

So many other things Strade did to _him_. He’d gotten more scars than he could keep track of at this point, and most of them weren’t even his fault. He thought about crying while he ate because the cuts on his tongue or lips hadn’t healed yet, but he was just too hungry to do anything about it. He thought about the first time they had sex, the first time _he_ had sex. Ren hadn’t even known what was going on at first, he didn’t know why Strade had cut him free. He didn’t understand why Strade unbound him just to slam him on the floor again. He didn’t have any idea how much it would hurt when Strade finally thrust it in.

“REN!”

Ren’s locked his gaze with Strade’s, causing any other words the latter might have had to die in his throat. Ren could see the exact moment Strade realized what was going on, realized that Ren wasn't frozen out of fear anymore. He drank in every ounce of shock and fear that past over those eyes in those few precious seconds before they too hardened into a deep loathing. Strade hissed something in German, something Ren didn’t understand, but after that, he went quiet. An eerie silence stretched between the two men, both glaring at the other and refusing to say a word. Ren knew what Strade was doing—to him, there was no higher insult than dying quietly. But Ren didn’t care. 

It couldn’t have taken long, not when Ren found Strade in such a dire state already. But those next few minutes seemed to stretch for ages. Ren's resolve never wavered though; all he could think about as he stared into those angry golden eyes was of still more horrible things this man had done to him. He thought of all the bruises and burns that kept him awake at night, all the deep gashes he’d had to tend to himself when Strade was done playing with him. He thought about every time he yanked at his hair or tail, bit on his ears, anything to get a squeak or yelp out of him. He thought of every suffocating instance he thrust that damn cock into his mouth until he choked and cried.  He hated him, he hated him, he hated him…!

Ren wasn’t sure when he started panting, but he suddenly became vividly aware of the rise and fall of his own chest. As his pulse began to slow, the suffocating silence of the dimly lit basement began to creep around him, engulf him.

“…Strade?”

Ren rushed forward, flinging himself down to the other man’s side. Desperately, he pressed his ear against Strade’s chest, hoping and praying for some sign that he was still alive. Nothing.

“Strade?”

His voice began to crack as he took the man’s lifeless body into his arms, and he felt water begin to well up in his eyes. More memories rushed unbidden into his mind, but these were different. He thought about the first time he met Strade, how good it felt to have someone look at him so intently. He thought about how that never really went away, how despite everything else, Strade always saw him as something special, something worth keeping, something that was beautiful and interesting and _unique_. He thought about how, for the first time in his life, he had someone else who cared. But now Strade was dead. Now, he was alone.

“Strade!”

The tears that had been building suddenly spilled over, running down his cheeks as he held the lifeless body close.  What had he done? This was his friend…his best friend…his **_only_** friend! Ren started to sob harder.

“Why…w-why did you have to…?”

He always knew what he was doing, didn’t he? Why did he bring someone home who could fight back? Why did he let them get loose? Didn’t he know how to tie a stupid knot by now?! Didn’t he know how to judge his own strength? Didn’t he know not to depend on others, to depend on _him_ for something so important?!!

“Why did you let this happen? W-why did you….why did you make me….”

Ren’s gaze hardened, eyebrows furrowing into a scowl as his grip on the corpse tightened. He barely noticed his claws digging into the man’s back. Wasn’t this the one thing Strade was supposed to do for him? Just fucking…be there?! He knew how much of a coward his pathetic little fox was, Ren thought he’d accepted it! He thought the man _knew_ that Ren couldn't be trusted to make decisions like this! He needed someone to have control, to _keep_ control!

Ren let out a howl of frustration before tearing into Strade's chest, coating his claws in a bright shade of crimson. Why did Strade let this happen? Why did he let him have this opportunity?!

“WHY DID YOU LET ME MAKE THIS CHOICE?!” he screamed, ripping and scraping feverishly in his fury. All rational thought seemed to cease for a moment, until suddenly, he wrapped his fingers around something softer. Pausing in his onslaught, Ren pulled out a familiar-looking organ, and stared at it in awe.

It was Strade’s heart.

Though tears were still streaming down his face, Ren felt he corners of his mouth switch upwards into a smile. A frenzied sort of elation suddenly washed over him as he cradled the tiny organ in his hands, holding it against his slightly flushed face. This was his now, wasn’t it? Strade always like the idea of him eating other people’s hearts, so why not his own? It was perfect! **It was still warm.**

The smooth muscle was slick with blood and slightly bitter to taste, though the meat itself was tough and chewy, even for him. Warm blood oozed out of the flesh he bit into, running down his chin and neck. The more he worked at it, the more he began to notice a salty flavor he couldn’t remember ever tasting before, not from the last human heart. Vaguely, he wondered if Strade’s less than ideal diet had caused some sort of sodium to build up, but then he realized the true cause: it was his tears.

“Heh…heheh…” He wasn’t sure why he was laughing, but the sounds continued to fall from his lips all the same as he ran his tongue over and around the open wound he’d made in the organ. The metallic liquid coated his tongue and lips, sending shivers down his spine every time he thought about who that blood belonged to. By the time he devoured the last remaining tissue, he was moaning softly between sobs. All his, all his…

Eventually, he ate it all, and Ren was left nothing by an empty chest cavity. This time, once the adrenaline wore off, he felt more tired than he could ever recall feeling in his entire life. Slowly, the fox rose to his feet.  Every limb felt almost as heavy as the body he was dragging behind him as he made his way over to the freezer. After chucking the remains in there (what else could he do?), Ren trudged up the stairs, covered in blood, sweat, and tears. Light was just beginning to spill into the living room from the rising sun, bathing the furniture in a gentle, golden light. It was a calm scene, standing in stark contrast to the bloody mess staring wearily at it from the hallway.

Ren’s hand rose mindlessly to his neck, gently running along his collar. That’s right…he could remove this now, couldn’t he? All he’d have to do was go back down stairs and figure out how. Despite this revelation, Ren’s gaze shifted up towards the front door of the house, and he began considering another idea entirely. There was no reason the collar wouldn’t still work as long as it was on him, no reason the failsafe function wouldn’t still be effective. If he walked out the door right now, it would be over within seconds. He wouldn’t have to deal with this, with _any_ of this.

He took a step forward.

Suddenly, Ren felt his heartbeat pick up again. Why now? Everything else felt so heavy, felt so dead. Everything else _was_ dead. What reason did he have to be nervous? But it didn’t stop; it only picked up when he took another step toward the door, and then another, and then…

_“BEEEEP!”_

Ren jumped, so spooked by the noise that it took him a moment to realize it was coming from his collar. It was a warning, a reminder of what was to come if he continued past that point. He’d heard it once before when he got too near the perimeter, and had always given the zone a wide berth since. Ren stared at the door a moment more before his feet gave out from under him, sending plummeting to the floor with a painful thud. Fresh tears welled up, and he curled inward on himself.  He couldn’t do it; he was too much of a coward before, and he was still too much of a coward now. Ren started sobbing again, and continued until he finally cried himself to sleep.


End file.
